Mission Mars

by Janet L. Cannon

  As it was, I didn’t think we would find anything, even though the Areo Corp headquarter satellites apparently acquired a few blurry, unfocused pictures of a shuttle on the ground along the edge of one of the larger canyons, with what looked like tracks leading away from it. So, Areo Corp, seeing as they’d paid good money for sole development rights in the area, decided it needed to be checked out. Hence Johnson, Hopkins, and I had been sent here with one of the extended-range rovers, and enough supplies for a month.

  Now, after four days of driving just to get here, and three charting the area, while looking into an unauthorized landing, we hadn’t discovered anything significant. The trip was looking to be a complete waste of resources. Even so, the Noctis Labyrinthus region was breathtaking; but even these massive canyons got old after awhile. Still, the mornings did make it a bit easier to deal with the monotony. There was something about waking up, rolling in the lead shutters that kept radiation out when the windows were not in use, and staring out into misty fog created by the sublimated frost that soothed my frayed nerves.

  But as of now? Nothing. No tracks. No burns. And absolutely no sign of a landing anywhere along the canyon edge. If we didn’t get recalled for some reason or another, we’d be spending the next few weeks scanning every nook and cranny in this area for anything unusual. Considering how tight security was on everything and everyone coming to, and already on, Mars, I wasn’t really expecting much of anything to turn up.

  Another week drifted by and more of the omnipresent red dust—or fines to be technical—wormed its way through the filters and into our hair, clothes, and food. Even at the major habitats, the red crap somehow manages to wangle its way in, but not near in the amounts that infiltrate our rover. The mornings now, too, were repetitive. Monotonous. Sand, rock, and even more sand, interspersed with the drifting fog made for a tiresome day. And down in the valleys, we couldn’t even see the sunrise.

  Another day of driving was nearing its end, so close that I could imagine the scratchy, dust-filled sheets I’d be climbing into soon. My fantasies were put to an end by an urgent beep coming from the console. It was an incoming call from headquarters.

  “Hey, Avenici, I’ve got some good news for you.” I groaned inside as I realized who it was: my direct superior and least-favorite person in the world, Arnold Plumm. He was the head executive for Areo Corp here on Mars, and as such got away with everything. I knew he was corrupt, but couldn’t do anything about it.

  He didn’t even wait for me to acknowledge him before finishing, “You’re being recalled. A dust storm is brewing in the Hellas Basin, and I’d get know end of shit from the investors on Earth if I let their big security chief bite the dust that way. Be back here in a week.” The call cut out with nothing further being said. As much as I hated the man, it was better to get back to civilization than be stuck out here with Hopkins for much longer.

  Since I was the one driving and in the control room at the time, I had the privilege to surprise my two comrades with the good news. As I reached the main room, I stopped, confused at what I was seeing. “What the hell?” I said. Johnson and Hopkins looked up at me. Seeing the frown on my face, they turned to where I was looking. Johnson spoke first, “Why the heck is the outer airlock cycling?” Before any of us could react, the distinctive click of the airlock closing rang out, followed by the inner door opening. Three figures stood inside, clad in the sealed bio-suits that had replaced traditional pressure suits for fieldwork on Mars. Then, the center figure rolled a small ball into center of the room. Having had a career as a detective, I knew what was in the container—a gas meant to disable—but, like Johnson and Hopkins, I wasn’t fast enough to get away before the world around me faded away to darkness.

  The most startling thing about waking up was the fact that I actually was waking up. More than that, I was surprised to still be alive. Mars was a cruel mother, much more so than Mother Earth. People couldn’t afford to do things by half-measures on Mars when the addition of one or two extra people could lead to an entire colony failing. Someone obviously had bigger plans in motion, if I wasn’t dead.

  Second-biggest surprise? I wasn’t restrained. I was sitting in a rather comfortable chair, and across a glass-topped table from me there was a blonde woman, propped back in her own chair, thumbing through a worn copy of Dante’s Inferno as if she hadn’t a care in the world. The way she exuded confidence, I doubted that she was as harmless as she tried to appear. Besides, there was a rather bright light angled into my eyes. This, I knew, was an interrogation. It was odd to be on the receiving end of the third degree, however.

  “It’s nice to….”

  I raised a hand to cut off the woman as she spoke in a backwoods Texas drawl that belied the intelligence in her eyes. “Look, lady, I’ve done this enough times to know what you’re doing. The fact that I still alive means that you need me for something. So, shall we spare the chit-chat and cut to the chase?”

  She frowned slightly, then realizing she’d let her guard down, her face smoothed out into a blank mask again. She dropped the Southern drawl and leaned toward me. “We need you and your people to work for us.”

  “Sorry, lady, but I already have a job with Areo Corp. Talk to them if you want to buy out my contract.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms, like I didn’t care one way or the other who I worked for. Plus, I wanted to see if I could get under her skin.

  “Mr. Avenici, you don’t seem to understand the situation. The only reason you’re still alive is because we recently experienced a setback—an accident—that resulted in the deaths of three of our members. As such, we decided to give you and your compatriots a choice.”

  “So, you consider drugging us, and then kidnapping us, to be a choice?” I rasped out a harsh laugh. “I’d hate to see what you consider coercion.”

  She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Look, if you want to die, just say so. Let all my other cohorts prove me wrong for wanting to offer you three a chance to live, rather than killing you outright.”

  I shrugged. “Look, don’t get me wrong,” I said, “I want to live as much as the next guy. I just doubt that you’ll keep me alive for very long, once you don’t need me anymore. After all, you just admitted that you and your people were going to kill us anyway.”

  “So, will you, or will you not work for us? If you say yes, I promise that we’ll keep you alive and safe for the foreseeable future. If not, my less-than diplomatic associates, just outside the door, will be more than happy to end your life painlessly.” The woman leaned forward. “Yes, or no?”

  Huh … that was quicker than I thought. I’d assumed it would take another minute at least for her to issue the ultimatum. Still, I took my time making up my mind. Finally, I said, “Yeah, I’ll work with you. Can’t be any less interesting than working at Areo Corp. Besides, this way I don’t have to make good on that bet I made about anything coming of those pictures of an unreported landing. The shuttles were yours, I’d assume?”

  “You’d be correct. That shipment was the last of what we needed to establish ourselves as self-sufficient. It was a fluke that your people even caught the landing on satellite. Rest assured, however, there will be no more slip-ups like that.” She smiled and slid a clipboard complete with an attached pen over to me. It made sense, to be that low-tech, I supposed. Paper records were a hell of a lot harder to steal. The woman again leaned back in her chair. “Take as long as you need, then sign on the dotted lines. Your contract comes up for renewal in five years.”

  I skimmed through it. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Standard Non-Disclosure Agreements for an obviously secret organization like this, decent pay and benefits, and a clause stipulating that leaving the grounds of the facility without express permission from a superior was grounds for immediate termination of the contract. Which, in this particular case, my life. Nowhere in the contract did it say exactly who I was working for. But, then again, I didn’t expect an obviously pre-prepared document like this to do so. I s
igned and slid the clipboard back to her.

  She tucked it under one arm and stood, gesturing for me to do the same. She offered a hand as she said, “Welcome to Atlantis.”

  There was a brisk tour of the admittedly impressive, facility before I was put to work. Hopkins and Johnston both accepted their own offers, I was told, but they wouldn’t be allowed near me, or each other. The place was an arcology, and by far the best one I’d seen on Mars. Paolo Soleri would have been proud. There along the central promenade, actual redwoods grew along the boulevard, and real, live birds and flowers added to the surroundings. One side of the promenade ended at the doors to an airlock. There was even a concealed garage for the few rovers housed here. The other end terminated in a series of blast doors, which I was told were off limits. Along the walls, various hallways branched out to allow access to the residential areas and various low-level security labs. All of this somehow dug into the side of a canyon, without anyone noticing.

  With a series of pipes to disperse the heat emissions through an area large enough to keep the entire base from lighting up like a Christmas tree on orbital scans, the design was brilliant. Everything that couldn’t be produced under the rock, invisible without close inspection, was cleverly concealed throughout the entire area of the canyon. Though I hated to admit it, even to myself, we probably wouldn’t have found this place unless we’d walked into one of the outside machines, and our feet hit the metal. I still had no idea how over a hundred people had gotten here under the noses of all the satellites in orbit. And I definitely had no idea how they’d managed to build this place without anybody noticing. All in all, it really did live up to its name. Just like Atlantis, this was truly a hidden city.

  The woman, who introduced herself as Marie, was in charge of the agricultural portion of Atlantis. I’d be working under her as brute labor, basically. I didn’t know anything about genetic engineering, or the finer points of agricultural science, but all she really needed was someone to replace one of the dead guys. And that meant that all I did was plant seeds and carry heavy bags to processing. Definitely easier than my last job, even if I had been forced into service, practically at gunpoint.

  Months passed and the dirty looks I’d received at first, faded. I’d originally planned to break out, but found I actually liked it here. Besides that, there was still the small issue of the raging dust storm outside, which showed no signs of abating. And neither of my two subordinates, nor I, had bio-suits to survive outside, nor a rover to get home, since they’d confiscated it after kidnapping us.

  I still had no idea why this place was here, or who’d funded it. The people were perfectly normal for a Martian colony: an eclectic mix of Americans, Brits, and Russians, with a few other nationalities thrown in. They still clammed up whenever I tried to ask about how they got here, whom they worked for, or what was behind the restricted doors. Even so, I managed to form a few friendships, the closest by far, with Marie. Sometimes, I felt our discussions were a bit of a game to her, especially when she flirted with me.

  The day everything changed started out like any other. I left my room, collected the black sludge that passed for coffee from the cafeteria, and sat on a bench under the simulated morning sunlight as a small family of birds nested above me. I nodded at everyone that passed me on their way to their own work, but some people didn’t respond like they usually did. In fact, about half of them seemed nervous, constantly looking over their shoulders and holding hushed conversations. While that behavior was unusual, I didn’t think that much of it. Just like on Earth, gossip was rampant in a place with this small of a population.

  After finishing my drink, I threw the cup into the recycling chute and went into the agricultural area, politely greeting my few coworkers. They returned the courtesy, but something still felt off. Even after several hours of repetitive work, I’d still catch them staring at me. I just shrugged it off and continued planting some of the modified squash in the greenhouse. Marie wasn’t there, but that wasn’t abnormal. She was usually in the genetics labs, designing the stuff that I planted.

  I finished earlier than planned, so I had one of those rare gaps in my schedule where I could just lounge about on the promenade. Until, that is, I got roped into helping with some duty or another. Usually I’d find someone to play chess or some other board game. But today, nobody else was in sight.

  So, I decided I’d try to take a nap. For such a beautiful and high-tech place, there really wasn’t much to do here, aside from sleep and work. With the warmth from the quasi-sunlight soaking into my skin and the songbirds chirping, it wasn’t hard to imagine I was back on Earth, in one of the vineyards in Italy I’d stayed at when I visited my relatives in Europe a few years back.

  Just as I started to nod off, however, a shadow fell across my face. A bit irritated, I halfway opened one eye, intending to chew out whoever had disturbed me. When I saw that it was Marie, however, that intention died. She wouldn’t interrupt me without a good reason. When she reached me, she dropped a half full cup of coffee onto the floor. I moved to get up, but she subtly pushed me back down as she bent to collect it. In one motion, she pressed a piece of paper into my hand and mouthed, “Later. The walls have eyes.” Then, after picking up her cup, she was gone. My palm tingled where her gloved fingers had dragged across my hand. I found myself unwillingly slipping back into sleep. Marie, it seems, had drugged me.

  I slept for a few hours, according to my watch, and had a crick in my neck when someone woke me up for dinner. A cold feeling settled into the pit of my stomach when I found that there really was a piece of paper clutched in my hand. I thought it had been a dream. Something either really wrong was happening here. Or something really cliché. I tucked the paper into my pocket and went to find someplace to read it. Preferably somewhere without cameras.

  I went into the bathroom, the one place where cameras were not found. I dug the slightly crumpled paper from my pocket and stared at it in confusion. As far as I could tell, it was blank. In Marie’s neat handwriting, the note read: My rooms. Ten o’clock. Be discreet.

  “Well, I’ll be.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. If this was an invitation like I thought it might be, she was much more shy than I’d thought. Or, when tacked onto everything else I’d seen, which seemed so much more likely, something big was happening and she was finally going to tell me.

  It was torture as I waited for time to head to Marie’s. All I could do was run scenarios in my head. I didn’t consider myself an imaginative person; rather I used deductive reasoning to figure something out. But at the moment, I simply didn’t have enough information to make sure the note meant what I thought it might. I still imagined at least a dozen different scenarios. I threw out all of them.

  Finally, it was a few minutes until ten. Deciding that was close enough, I started towards Marie’s suite. As a department head, she warranted her own suite, as opposed to the single, although spacious room I had.

  As I walked through the deserted hallways, I was careful not to let any of my inner anxiety show. After twenty years of being the one scanning for criminals, I knew that trying to look inconspicuous was one of the worst things a criminal could do. The best thing in a crowded area, or even one like this, was to be confident. To look and act as if you belong and knew what you were doing. Few people would challenge you, and the odds were good that anyone watching the cameras would think you had every right to be there.

  I was pretty sure that nobody would question why I was walking to Marie’s room. Until, that is, she opened the door and pulled me in by my shirt before I could even knock. She gestured for me to sit down and then pressed a button on some palm-sized metal device in her hand.

  “What were you thinking, walking here like that?” she ranted. “Anyone could have seen you!”

  I brushed my shirt back to normal as I replied, “Yes, and this way they don’t notice anything wrong with it. I wasn’t skulking around suspiciously. I looked for all the world like a man on a mission. Like I had eve
ry right to be doing what I was doing. I wouldn’t have even registered as unusual. Unless someone watched you pull me in like that. Now, what is it that you wanted?”

  She sighed and sat down across from me. It was then I saw how disheveled she appeared. Her hair was a rat’s nest, dark circles ringed her eyes, and her hands trembled. On the table next to her was another surprising sight: a half empty bottle of alcohol. I couldn’t tell what it was, but anyone drinking alone was always a bad sign. Something must be seriously wrong.

  “I’m not cut out for this,” she mumbled. “I came here just to make sure the colony would be self-sustainable with the engineered food I created. I knew there’d be risks and pitfalls—there always are here on Mars—but still. I didn’t expect or want to be involved in espionage, kidnapping, and now….” She trailed off with a harsh, uncharacteristic laugh.

  “And now what?” I prodded.

  “You know Edgar, right?” she asked, not even acknowledging my question.

  “Yeah. The bald guy with the beady eyes who’d never talk about his work and almost always seemed to want to bolt past the restricted doors. Why?”

  “He’s dead. Someone murdered him last night while he was in the labs. His latest project is missing. And we’ve been put on lockdown until it’s found and the murderer is caught.”

  That actually matched up with one of the possible scenarios I’d come up with. “You came to me because I used to be a detective, then? You want me to find whoever did it?” I surmised. She nodded in response. “For starters, then, I’m going to need access to the cameras, and you’ll need to tell me what the missing project is.”

  She shook her head. “That’s the thing, I don’t know what he was working on, Plus, someone tampered with the cameras. Every single one in the restricted labs just shows a loop of the same footage, over and over again. Edgar didn’t even show up on camera when he signed in at the airlock, so, whoever killed him had director-level access codes.”